


Meant to be?

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-26
Updated: 2006-07-09
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Harry and Hermione's burgeoning relationship is troubled by her busy schedule and his secrecy over what he believes is a dangerous mission for the order. In trying to protect her, Harry leaves Hermione open to a wrathful Draco, but might Draco be just as vulnerable to her?





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

It was funny how it had all happened, Harry mused to himself. One minute they were just Harry and Hermione the next they were, well, Harry and Hermione. It had happened completely by chance. 

He blissfully laid back on his pillows and let his mind wander back to a few days earlier…

(flashback)

They had all been sitting around in the Gryffindor common room well into the night. They had returned from Hogsmeade only just on curfew with stacks of Butterbeer and delicious sweets and, as tomorrow was a Sunday, thought that they deserved some time off to enjoy themselves. After all, they’d all been killing themselves with classes recently, and everyone deserved a break. 

It had taken a little persuading to get Hermione to join them, but eventually there they all were: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Lavender, Neville, and several others that didn’t really catch Harry’s attention. All he knew was that there were a lot of them.

Harry and Ron had picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet, which was currently running a hilarious series of fictions about Victor Krum, whose ban from Quidditch as a result of prohibited potions being found in his possession had taken the wizarding world wholly by surprise. Today’s effort at fiction, for although it was supposedly true, everyone knew it was false, was about Krum’s new girlfriend – a fifty-year old German witch – with many salacious details. Harry was reading the fiction aloud in his best dramatic voice whilst the others crowded around him, reading the pages and looking at the moving pictures whilst listening to him and cracking up with laughter.

Then Hermione had been complaining that she couldn’t see the pictures properly with Ron, who was getting taller every day, blocking her view. So, out of nowhere, Ron had suggested that she sit on Harry’s lap and, whether it was the Butterbeer or the overload of sugar and tiredness that spurred them on, Harry and Hermione reluctantly consented. 

And so there she was all of a sudden, sitting in his lap, smelling so good, like fresh apples and warm sun, and as light as a feather. 

Even as Harry was reading, doing his best to entertain the crowd, he was impossibly aware of her presence and even more aware of how much he liked it.

Gradually, one by one, they had drifted away, the sugar and beer wearing off, the need to sleep and the worries about class becoming more and more insistent, until eventually it was only Ron, Luna, Harry and Hermione left. When Luna finally stood up to leave Ron had hurried after her leaving Harry with Hermione on his lap. He fell silent, sure she wouldn’t want him to continue his dramatic reading just for her benefit. 

There was an awkward pause and then, suddenly, she leapt up, almost knocking the paper out of his hands. 

“I’m going to go and check if the owl has come back from Remus yet,” she told him forthrightly. There was a pause – what was he meant to say to that? She blushed slightly and resumed control of the situation – “Would you like to come?”

“Uh,” Harry muttered, beginning to redden. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. It was hard to summon up enthusiasm for the unlikely return of an owl they had sent only hours before, and he was sure that Hermione, too, must have known it was unlikely there would be a response yet. But, nonetheless, the two of them had headed toward the tower together, walking a few inches apart from each other and making idle chit-chat about classes and Ron and Luna, who had been arguing a lot recently.

As they finished climbing the stairs with Harry following Hermione blindly, she must have been out of breath or something as she lingered at the very top of the flight of stairs and Harry almost ran into the back of her, stopping only millimetres away. 

Yet for a second or two she didn’t move. 

He knew she must have been aware of him and he just couldn’t understand what was going on. His mind was racing and he sensed that something was happening but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it might be. 

Then Hermione had led him into the main chamber and had let out a disappointed groan when she realized the owl hadn’t yet returned. Quickly, before he could react, she spun to face him and he found that she was only an inch away from him, looking up into his face with her big, clear brown eyes illuminated in the moonlight.

“Harry,” she had murmured, but he hadn’t let her finish the sentence. What his mind couldn’t understand his body had figured out and without even realizing it he bent to kiss her gently on the lips. He felt her lips purse and then relax beneath his as her body sank toward him and her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders and neck. He gripped her waist gently as the kiss became more and more passionate and then, suddenly, he broke it off. 

Standing in front of her, looking down at her slightly flushed face, Harry whispered, “Was that what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she replied, “Exactly what I’d hoped.”

***

There had been a long conversation after that, coupled with even longer kisses, and Harry was amazed to learn of the crush that Hermione had been harbouring for him for the past few years. In fact, he was almost as surprised as he was when he discovered that, completely unbeknown to him, he had been falling in love with her too. 

The following day, when the two had appeared together at breakfast, bleary-eyed from their long night together, the questions had begun almost immediately.

“Well, you two look like you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Ron commented as they sat down opposite each other.

“Yeah,” Harry laughed awkwardly. “Well, we got to talking and …”

“And you finally decided to give it a try?” Ginny demanded with delight. 

Hermione blushed profusely but managed a happy nod and a gentle, embarrassed smile.

“My, oh my,” came a cold voice from behind Harry. They all raised their heads to see the malevolent form of Draco Malfoy towering above them.

“Have Potter and the Mudblood suddenly decided to start holding hands?” he teased in a sickly sweet voice. “Ugh, just imagine their sex. Gah!” He faked a shudder and then moved away toward the Slytherin table where Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and others were laughing hysterically.

With a roll of her eyes Hermione took charge of the situation. “Bloody ferrets,” she exclaimed and with a laugh Harry dissipated the rest of the tension. Nothing was going to spoil this day for them.

(present)

Now it had been almost a week and Harry was still blissfully happy with the new- found relationship. He couldn’t get over how long it had taken the two to discover their feelings for one another!

“Oh I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he sighed, grinning into the darkness and rolling over to sleep and dream dreams of his new girlfriend. 


	2. A mission

The first few weeks of the relationship were blissful. Spring slowly began to emerge from the icy cold winter they always experienced at Hogwarts and Harry could feel his life blossoming with it - he was rarely without a smile on his face these days. The only possible complaint he could have made was how busy Hermione could be sometimes.

(flashback)

“Hey Hermione, you fancy coming to watch the Quidditch practice later on? Ron and I are going to try out some wicked new moves!” “Can’t sorry, I have to go to a prefect meeting with McGonagall. Good luck though – you’ll have to tell me all about it later, ok?”

“Herm, wanna come see Hedwig with me? I’ve got a letter I need her to take.” “I’m sorry sweetie, I’ve only just sat down with this potions book and I really have to figure this stuff out before Snape makes us do it tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Hermione, can you help me out in the library? I can’t find the million-and-one books that I need for my Arithmancy homework. We could spend a little time in the back section if you’re really nice to me!” “Mmm, as tempted as I am by that, I really can’t – I have a charm that needs a ton of practicing. Can’t you take Ron?” “Well, I guess …” “Hey, Herm, we’re heading up to see Lavender – apparently she got a letter from her new beau this morning!” “Ooh sure thing Gin. Catch you later Harry, yeah? Let me know if you need any help with that homework.” “I thought I just did,” Harry muttered in the direction of his disappearing girlfriend’s back.

(present)

“And that’s just within the past few days!” Harry exclaimed, lying flat on his bed in the dormitory. “She’s just been busy mate. You know what Hermione’s like!” Ron countered, sitting up on his bed. “Fancy a lemon sherbet?” “Sure thing.” Ron threw the packet over to his friend’s be and it landed on Harry’s stomach. “I know I’m being a bit daft. I’m just ranting a little. That last one pissed me off a bit.” “But you’re still spending plenty of time with her, yeah? And, you know, things are going … ok?” “Depends what you mean by ok,” Harry replied, rolling over onto his stomach and giving Ron a devilish grin. “Oh come on mate, throw the dog a bone here! I told you, it’s only Ginny I never want to hear anything about!” “Well …”

(flashback)

“Mmm,” Hermione moaned. “Do you like that?” Harry asked, trying to conceal his anxiety. This was the furthest they’d ever gotten (the furthest he’d gotten with anyone!) and he really didn’t want to do anything wrong! “Uh-huh.” 

They weren’t really words, as such. They were simply breaths that conveyed some kind of meaning. With each sigh that came from her lips Harry’s body shivered and he could feel himself thicken and swell in his trousers. 

Hermione was wearing thin, linen trousers that day which she had unzipped for him after a few minutes to stop the waistband from cutting off the circulation to his fingers. Harry could feel her warm heat through the thin cotton underwear that she was wearing as he slowly stroked backward and forward. He really didn’t know what he was doing, but he just followed the moans and tried not to think about the throbbing against his thigh.

“Oh God Harry,” Hermione whispered hotly in his ear and he felt her hand creep slowly down his stomach, edging toward his waistband. “Hermione,” he gulped, unsure how he would react if she continued. 

Before he could say anything more her hand was upon him through the black trousers that he always wore beneath his robes. She curved her palm around him tentatively and the exquisite sensation made Harry lose himself, stopping all motion, just drinking up the feeling. “Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely, and Harry made a deliberate effort to do as she said. Hermione leaned in to kiss Harry as she began to slip her flat palm up and down his bulging trousers, locking them together for a moment, hands trapped between the two bodies.

“Harry, Harry,” a loud male voice shouted from the staircase. “Shit, Ron,” Harry exclaimed, leaping away from Hermione and half way down the bed, feeling an unhappy throb from the broken connection. Hermione, flushed and hot from their activities and scared witless about their approaching friend, shoved herself into a seating position and fumbled with her zip as Ron crashed through the dormitory door.

“Oh.” Ron stumbled at the door, stopping short as he saw that he was interrupting something. “Umm, I’ll come back …”

“No, no,” Hermione said brightly but slightly too loudly, only succeeding in making them all feel even more awkward. “I should be getting off anyway, work to do, you know how it is.” She stood up and turned to Harry who was still knelt on the bed, hands uncomfortably at his crotch. She stopped short of leaning in to kiss him, now feeling incredibly awkward and just wanting to run from the room. “Uh, bye Harry,” she said with a slightly amused private grimace to him. “See you Ron,” she continued brightly as she swept past him and practically ran down the door. “Shit mate, I didn’t know she was here, I swear!” “Just OUT Ron, ok?” Harry shouted, punctuating his speech by throwing a pillow toward his friend, irrationally angry at the pleasure Ron had unwittingly robbed him of. “Jeez,” Ron muttered, slamming the door behind him as Harry flopped hopelessly down onto his bed.

(present)

“Yeah, sorry about that mate, just, uh, heat of the moment, you know,” Harry mumbled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I would never have … if I’d know that you were getting some!” Ron replied a little awkwardly. It was a little weird to think of Hermione in those sorts of situations.

“I can’t believe you guys are talking about Hermione like that!” Neville exclaimed from his bed where he was reading. “Oh hush up Neville! After all, it’s just boy’s talk. Girls do it just the same! You think that Lavender hasn’t told every girl she knows how you are as a kisser?” Ron threw back at him. “But… no … I don’t know…” Neville spluttered. Harry and Ron laughed in an attempt to appear worldly but they were both just as panicky about what their girlfriends might have said about them. 

“But, was she getting there?” Ron asked, resuming their conversation now that Neville had stopped objecting. Harry paused for a second - should he play all cocky and macho, and say ‘yes’? He decided against it – it just wasn’t him and Ron would know that. “Yeah, I think so. I HOPE so!” he responded. “Wow.” Ron paused. “Intense.” “How about you and Luna?” Harry asked. “Nothing to tell mate,” Ron said, pulling a sad face. “I just don’t think she’s into me. I’m thinking about breaking up with her.” “Don’t do anything drastic,” Harry warned him. “She might just want to take things slow. You still hang out and have a good time and stuff, yeah?” “Yeah, of course. I guess you’re right. That’s the most important thing, isn’t it, having fun time together. Otherwise you’re just like Malfoy,” he added contemptuously. “Hmmm,” Harry muttered back. 

The problem was that he and Hermione often missed that kind of stuff, they were both so busy! 

“So, anyway, what was it that you were so excited about that day?” he asked, changing the subject. “Oh,” Ron said, pausing significantly before continuing. “Well, I was going to tell you but I forgot. Dad sent me a letter …”

***

“I see,” Harry muttered. “Yeah, well, it was a bit incoherent but I think that’s the gist of it,” Ron replied. “So they want me to…” “Uh-huh.” “And then…” “Uh-huh.” “I see,” Harry muttered again. “Well, that settles that then doesn’t it.”

(flashback)

“Dear dad,” Ron wrote back. “Harry says that if you’re sure about the meeting next month then he’ll try and do what he can. He’s going to look into how he’s going to manage it as Polyjuice Potion won’t be any good this time. He says that he may need some more information to carry if off though. Write back soon, Ron. P.S. How are mum and the twins getting on now? She calmed down yet?”

(present)

“Come up with anything yet mate?” Ron hissed quietly, leaning over Harry in the library. “I just sent the letter to dad so we should get a reply in a day or two.” “I’m really not sure. I mean, how long is it going to have to last, this … transformation?” 

Harry said the word distastefully, as if it were the worst idea imaginable to him, and Harry Potter was not someone who had only happy ideas.

“Well, I think from what Dad said maybe two hours or so, but you probably want it to last three or four. You can always hide out in the Shrieking Shack until it wears off.” Ron settled himself down in the chair next to Harry and kept his voice to a harsh whisper, looking over toward Madam Pince anxiously. “Yeah,” Harry said glumly, not looking particularly cheery about that prospect. “At least I know how to knock him out anyway. Obliviando,” he muttered in a low voice.

Unbeknownst to them, a first year fell to the floor just behind the bookshelves that were in front of them. Harry had found at least one spell that worked.

“Why don’t you ask Hermione?” Ron suggested. “She’s always been up for helping us with a spot of mischief before!” “This is more than a spot of mischief Ron!” Harry exclaimed loudly. Almost instantly he was chastised by an annoyed look from Madam Pince. “This is pretending to be Draco Malfoy and walking into a den of Death Eaters!” he continued in a quieter voice. “I just don’t want her involved, ok?”

There was a small pause when Ron frowned at his friend’s stubbornness. Then, finally, he spoke. 

“I see how it is mate. Now she’s your girlfriend it’s not allowed, right? But when she was just your friend it was fine!” Ron shot back. He knew as well as Harry did that having Hermione on board would make things run a lot smoother. The chances of one of their plans cocking up were extremely high, but hers almost always ran smoothly. “Yeah, pretty much!” Harry slammed closed the book that he was reading and stood abruptly. “I’m going to go mull it over in the bath. Bye.” He walked away without a backward glance, leaving a befuddled Ron to clear away his table under Madam Pince’s watchful gaze.

“Dear Ronald, we think that the meeting will last a maximum of two hours as Lucius Malfoy has an appointment at the Ministry at 3pm and the letter to Draco that we intercepted said to meet at 1pm. The letter gave no hint as to what it was about and we presume that Draco is supposed to be in the dark when he shows up, so Harry shouldn’t worry too much about that. Your mother and the twins are fine now. I believe they have finally apologised sufficiently. Hope studies are going well – tell Harry not to worry once again. Love Dad.”

“Well, there we go then,” Harry sighed. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” “Have you found out a way to do it yet?” Ron asked, putting the letter down. “Yeah, I think it should be ok. It’s basically a body switch – sounds kind of dangerous but it’s the only thing I can think of that I can do and that will work for long enough!” “Hmm,” Ron replied sceptically. “And you’re sure that your Obliviando thing is going to work for long enough? You don’t want Draco Malfoy up and about do you, especially not in your body!” Ron added.

He had a strange sense of foreboding about this entire plan, as if it would be only too easy for it to backfire on Harry and leave him vulnerable to Malfoy’s wrath – or worse. Although he knew that Harry wouldn’t listen Ron felt honour-bound to raise his concerns. 

“He won’t be going anywhere! He’ll be down long enough for me to go to Hogsmeade, have the meeting, come back and reverse the switch. I’ll make sure of it!” “And what happens when he wakes up and tells his father what happened?” Ron questioned anxiously. “He doesn’t know about this meeting, remember? The Ministry still has the letter!” Harry countered. “And of course Lucius Malfoy will never mention it to him!” Ron replied sarcastically. “Look …” Harry began angrily. 

He couldn’t continue, however, as it was at that moment that they were interrupted.

“Hey you guys,” Hermione called out to them as she ducked through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. “Hey Hermione,” they called in unison, looking a little shifty. “And what have you two been up to today? Doing your potions essay for Monday I hope,” she added, sticking her tongue out at Ron as she settled into the sofa besides Harry and snuggled into his shoulder. “Oh be quiet Hermione, we’ve got all of tomorrow to do that!” Ron responded, only half joking with his annoyed tone. He’d actually managed to forget about the potions essay and didn’t like to be reminded.

Hermione giggled in response, rolling her eyes knowingly. 

“Do you fancy coming to watch Colin’s copy of the Irish Quidditch game later? He had it straight from his father and it only happened yesterday!” she added in wonderment. “Sure,” Harry replied happily. He knew that he hadn’t even started thinking about his potions essay but he was willing to stay up all night doing it if it meant actually spending some time with Hermione. He’d been missing her recently and he wasn’t sure that she’d noticed. However, with everything else going on, he hadn’t thought to mention it as he really couldn’t afford to fight with her and have that on his mind as well as the Malfoy business.

“Hmm, I think I might give it a miss, unless Luna wants to go,” Ron replied. Spotting his girlfriend at the bottom of the stairs to the girl’s dormitory he called her over. “Fancy watching the Quidditch tonight, love?” he asked, manoeuvring her onto his lap. “Sure thing,” she replied dreamily. “Ginny said something about it and I was going to ask you anyway.” “That settles it then,” Ron grinned happily. “Double dating, eh?” he added with a laugh.

***

“How are you doing sexy?” Hermione whispered coyly in Harry’s ear as she sat on his lap during the break in the match. “Good thanks. You?” he replied, kissing her on the cheek. 

They were sitting at the head of Colin’s bed next to Ron and Luna, with Ginny her boyfriend slightly in front. There must have been almost fifty Gryffindors packed into Colin’s dormitory and sitting in varying degrees of discomfort on one of the three beds that were there, all of them eagerly craning their necks to get a better view of the translucent miniature Quidditch match that hovered in the middle of the room, replaying the action of the day before. People were talking amongst themselves, having taking a brief pause in the hours-long match to replenish drinks and snacks.

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

She gave a little deliberate wriggle against his lap and winked at him. Harry felt a jolt of electricity run through him and leaned up to kiss her on the lips this time. She flicked her tongue against his closed lips for a split second and Harry had to keep himself from moaning softly – he had never realized before quite how stimulating kisses could be.

“Ok guys,” Colin announced loudly. “Back to the action!” The tiny men on broomsticks began whizzing around again and everyone grew hushed as they focused their full attention on the game, except for Harry, for whom a small part of his attention was now firmly focused on the soft warm body of his girlfriend and what he would do if only there weren’t so many people!

***

It was late into the night before Ron and Harry got back from watching the Quidditch match, and even later before they had made an adequate start on their potions essay and could let themselves go to bed. 

“So, how are you and Herm now? Enjoy the Quidditch match?” Ron asked, facing away from Harry and toward his bed as he got changed into his pyjamas. “Yeah,” Harry replied, also with his back to Ron as he pulled his pyjama shirt on. “Always nice to hang out, right? How about you and Luna?” “Good thanks. She, uh … well, she suggested we … you know,” Ron confessed, blushing and glad that Harry couldn’t see. “Wow! I thought you said you were taking it slow,” Harry replied with a twinge of jealousy. 

He and Hermione just didn’t have enough time together to get very far, especially as he preferred to spend some time just having fun instead of making out.

“Yeah, well, apparently she’s decided she’s ready,” Ron replied. There was a long pause as the two climbed into bed and Harry flicked the lights out with his wand. “How about you though?” Harry asked quietly. There was another pause. “Frankly I’m bloody terrified,” Ron announced to the darkness. “But I want to.” “Me too mate, me too,” Harry whispered to himself.


	3. Girl's talk

“So …” Ginny began with a pregnant pause. “Yes?” Hermione replied, pretending not to understand what she was talking about, even though she recognised her friend’s tone and knew exactly what it meant. Ginny had always loved to gossip, particularly about boys, but Hermione had never had much in her life to gossip about before and still wasn’t completely happy with answering Ginny’s probing questions. 

Hopefully the red-head would leave her be.

“If you don’t want to talk about it then fine,” Ginny muttered. 

Oh God, she was going to take it personally, Hermione realised. She could never understand why choosing to not share intimate and supposedly private details caused offence, but she really hated it when Ginny got angry at her because of it. She took a deep breath, and resigned herself to the necessary ‘girlie chat’ as Ginny termed it. “You haven’t said what you want to talk about yet,” Hermione responded finally, trying to add a hint of girlish giggle to her voice in order to satisfy her friend. She sighed in relief when Ginny giggled back: she’d managed to save the situation just in time. “You know what!” Ginny said with a grin. “Maybe,” Hermione responded coyly. 

It might just be possible that Ginny might let her get away with it if she thought the refusal was feminine coyness.

“Come on Hermione! I’m getting desperate, you don’t tell me anything.” There was a familiar whine in the younger girl’s voice: now she was going to have to tell her something. “Ok, well, what do you want to know?” Hermione replied, turning away from her chest of drawers, where she had been rearranging some robes, and facing her friend, who was idly playing with a pillow. Ginny giggled. “Whatever makes the best story!”

(flashback)

Hermione couldn’t stop herself from moaning a little at Harry’s ministrations. Although she was determined to keep quiet, so as not to draw any attention to the two of them and Harry’s room, she just couldn’t help it. “Do you like that?” Harry asked. Hermione thought he sounded a little scared, and for a second she thought about maybe stopping what they were doing, slowing things down a little: her body intervened. “Uh-huh.” 

They weren’t really words, she realized, simply breaths that she hoped conveyed some kind of meaning. She had worn thin, linen trousers that day: it was fairly warm, and got a little stuffy beneath her robes, but it wasn’t warm enough for a skirt so she’d compromised. Earlier on she had had to unzip them for him after he had fumbled for a few seconds and she hadn’t wanted to let him continue failing in case it broke the mood. Luckily he hadn’t needed any guidance after that. 

She could feel his warm fingers through the thin cotton that separated their skin as he slowly stroked backward and forward. Her next groan was accompanied by a small shift of her body toward him and she felt a jolt of electricity through her as her hip rubbed against his bulging trousers. She hadn’t even thought of anything she might do for him! “Oh God Harry,” she whispered hotly in his ear, something she knew he loved, and let her hand fall from his neck down his stomach, edging toward his waistband. “Hermione,” he gulped. 

Before he could say anything more her hand was upon him, through the black trousers that he always wore beneath his robes. She stopped for a second after she had reached her destination, and felt a mild panic surge through her. What now? Tentatively she manoeuvred her palm to cup the bulge and then began to stroke up and down, as she imagined he might like. It was awkward, and made her wrist hurt a little, but she didn’t know what else to do! Suddenly she was aware that through this Harry’s fingers had stopped dead, lying dormant against her. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely, and Harry made a deliberate effort to do as she said. For a moment, as they kissed, they were locked together, their hands trapped between the two bodies with both of them unable to move except for the tiny range of motion that led to the other’s groans.

“Harry, Harry,” a loud male voice shouted from the staircase, rudely interrupting their reverie. “Shit, Ron,” Harry exclaimed, leaping away from her and half way down the bed. Hermione felt a regretful throb in her stomach as she blushed furiously and shoved herself into a seating position, fumbling with her zip as Ron crashed through the dormitory door.

“Oh.” Ron stumbled at the door, stopping short as he saw that he was interrupting something. “Umm, I’ll come back …”

“No, no,” Hermione said brightly, but slightly too loudly, only making them all feel even more awkward. “I should be getting off anyway, work to do, you know how it is.” She stood up and turned to Harry, who was still knelt on the bed, hands uncomfortably at his crotch. She stopped short of leaning in to kiss him, now feeling incredibly awkward, and just wanting to run from the room. “Uh, bye Harry,” she said with a slightly amused private grimace to him. “See you Ron,” she continued brightly as she swept past him and practically ran out of the door.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Hermione muttered to herself as she flew down the stairs, fanning her face with one hand, hoping that she didn’t look too flushed and breathlessly, lest she bump into someone else that might throw her the suspicious look Ron had just given them.

(present) “Wow,” Ginny breathed quietly, shuffling in closer to Hermione who had sat down on the side of her bed. “That sounds kind of intense. What was it like? Were you getting close to … you know?” The two girls were both a little flushed and Hermione stood up, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Yeah … I think so, anyway,” Hermione replied, standing and turning away a little to hide her bright-red face. “What do you mean you think so? Don’t you know?” Ginny exclaimed. “Well, uh, not really, uh … look Gin, I really have to get this, uh, cleaning done,” Hermione stuttered. “Oh pish-posh Hermione,” Ginny responded with a swish of her wand and a low muttering as everything whisked its way into place. 

“Sit down and talk to me!” the younger girl commanded. “Well, ok, yes, alright. I was!” Hermione said exasperatedly, sitting down again with a sigh. “So, is that as far as you’ve gotten?” Ginny asked bluntly. 

She was much better at asking questions without blushing if she made them deliberately harsh and blunt. 

“Yes,” Hermione said in a long, drawn-out sigh. As much as discussing these things made her feel awkward, she had to admit that it was nice to have someone to talk to, and Ginny did have a little more experience than her in such things. “So, how are you feeling about it all?” Ginny asked, a little more sensitively this time. “Umm, good I think,” Hermione confessed. “It’s a little weird at times, being with Harry, of all people, but, I think it’s going fairly well. I just wish I could spend a little more time with him, I’m always so busy!” she added with a grimace.

“Aww, that’s a shame. But I meant, you know, sexually.” There was a very awkward pause after this, and although Ginny managed to keep her face casual and unflushed, Hermione did not.

“Oh.” Hermione blushed an even deeper beetroot colour. “Umm, I don’t really know what to say about that.” “Well, do you want to, you know, go all the way with him?” “Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed, rising from the bed again. “What? It’s only a question,” Ginny replied defensively. “I just thought it was something you ought to think about. You two are so clearly made for each other, and if it’s going well, then … I was just curious, that’s all.” “Well,” Hermione faltered. “Umm, I haven’t really thought about it. But, I suppose I do, yes. I mean, it’s Harry. I trust him with my life, why not with … that?” “Oooh,” Ginny squealed girlishly. “You’ll be the envy of almost every girl in Gryffindor, you know? You already are, of course, but even more so then!” “Ginny, please. I don’t care what everyone else thinks!” Hermione protested. “It’s just about me and Harry, ok? And please, please, please don’t tell anyone!”


	4. Attack and Counterattack

“Harry?” Hermione broke off a passionate kiss to begin her faltering question. 

She had been building up the courage all morning and thought that now would be as good a time as any to ask the question.

“Yes?” Harry blinked back at her, looking slightly startled and confused. He had just been about to forget that today was the day that he had to try and bewitch himself into Draco’s body and being brought back to reality was somewhat of a shock to him. “Would you like to … um … well,” Hermione paused. “I mean to say would you like to … you know?” She made a little shrugging gesture with these words, as if to better convey her meaning.

“What? Are you serious?” Harry exclaimed, pulling away from her in surprise. “Well, yeah. If you want to, that is.” “What? Now? Seriously Hermione, this isn’t exactly an ideal time for you to be springing big things on me, you know?” Harry began angrily. He couldn’t believe she was asking him this now, at the worst possible moment, when his mind was so completely elsewhere.

“Well, sorry!” Hermione replied, her face burning red. “If you’re not interested, just say!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” Harry protested, struggling to sound calm and failing miserably. “It’s just … Merlin, look, can we talk about this later on? I have to go soon. It’s Hogsmeade day, remember?” “Oh yes, you’re off into Hogsmeade with Ronald whilst I’m here all on my own!” Hermione shot back angrily. 

Her pride simply wouldn’t let her back down: he had rejected her! Of all the people she’d thought she could trust! Harry had shunned her!

“You told me you were bloody studying! Look, I’m not staying around to argue with you if you’re just going to be like this with me. Jeez, way to ruin the mood!” he snapped furiously. With that Harry stormed out of the room, frustrated and angry, both at her and himself: if only she had asked a day later! 

Harry paused in the corridor and contemplated turning back, apologizing, telling her how much he wanted what she had suggested, but he could already hear Ron’s familiar steps on the staircase and knew that he had come to remind him of what needed to be done. With an angry, dejected sigh Harry moved towards the stairs.

***

“Ok, are you sure you’re ready? You seem really off colour to me mate. Is it going to be ok? I’ll be hanging around the front door with the cloak just to make sure that you, I mean he, doesn’t show up!” “Yeah, I know, cheers,” Harry replied to Ron, doing his best to look optimistic and grateful. God, what an awful day! “Bugger off now then, ok? I’ll see you back in the Gryffindor common room at about six.” “Yeah, ok, I’ll be off then.” Ron paused awkwardly. “Good luck, ok? Don’t do anything stupid!”

Harry watched his friend disappear down the corridor, and only when Ron had turned the corner and completely vanished did he let out a long sigh. “Jesus,” he breathed out. 

Steeling himself he rustled through his robes to find his wand and gripped it tightly. He leaned against the wall for a second and ran through his plan. He had forged a note to Draco, supposedly from Pansy, asking him to meet her in the Astronomy Tower before the Hogsmeade trip. He hoped that Draco, despite his wavering affections for the girl, would show up. Then, before Draco even caught sight of him, he would cast the Obliviando curse and perform the body switch. He sighed deeply again, feeling the flurry of fear in his stomach as he remembered duelling with Draco in past years. He hoped it didn’t get to that point today. 

Suddenly aware of the time he shifted away from the wall and hurried up the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower. Running into Draco in the corridor would not be a good start to his plan. He hoisted open the heavy oak door and slipped into the tower, shutting the door behind him. Now, where to hide himself? He secreted himself behind a large chest that held the instruments and charts that were used when there was actually a class here.

He was just in time. 

There was a clattering of feet on the stairs and then the door creaked open. Peeking tentatively over the top of the chest he caught a flash of blond hair – enough to convince him that it was Draco at any rate. He waited for the clang that signified the closing of the door and then heard Draco moving around. “Bloody hell, where is she? Stupid bint, she knows I’ve lost interest!” Harry heard Draco mutter to himself. He saw the tall boy’s shadow appear on the floor as Draco moved towards the window and knew that now was the time to act.

Harry sprang to his feet, whipping his wand out of his robes as he did so. Reacting quickly to the noise behind him Draco spun around, but without drawing his wand, expecting Pansy behind him. Their eyes met for a second and Draco gave Harry the most furious, vengeful glare he had ever experienced, but Harry held his nerve and yelled, “Obliviando.” 

Draco, a frown melting from his face, fell to the floor with a dull clunk, narrowly missing hitting his head on the windowsill as he fell. 

Harry advanced towards him, still panicky but secure in the knowledge that Draco would be down for several hours now. Crouching down he riffled through Draco’s robe pocket and withdrew the blonde’s wand. With one wand in either hand he pressed the tips together and muttered an incantation to himself. He steadied himself against the stone wall for a second, feeling dizzy, and then righted himself whilst looking in amazement at his transformed hands. His skin was milky white and covered in tiny blonde hairs whilst some foreign, long, thin fingers grasped the two wands. In relief he let them drop to his sides, depositing the wands in his pocket and then hurrying towards the door. He pulled it open and with a pensive look back at his own form lying prone on the cold stone floor he hurried away, knowing that his incantation would only last so long, muttering to himself, “Just three hours, please God let it last three hours!” 

Five minutes later the black-haired, green-eyed boy stood up and left.

*** “Ok,” Draco muttered to himself. “Where’s that scumbag gone with my body?!” Although he had been completely immobile, Draco had seen and heard Harry leave with his form, and his wand! He could instantly guess why, and chuckled to himself in spite of his fury. Harry must have found out about his meeting with his father in Hogsmeade, and made the presumption that it would be related to Voldemort! 

Ha!

Draco knew full well that the meeting was simply about a life-size monument Lucius wanted to build to himself and his son and had demanded that his son pose for a rough sketch in Hogsmeade so as to not alert anyone to the plan until the grand unveiling. He laughed to himself again, just imagining Potter’s shock when told to stand still for an hour and a half and try and look like ‘a proper Malfoy’ or whatever his father would demand. Frankly, he was glad to be rid of the task and was relieved that it was something his father would never interrogate him about. This way his father would never learn how Potter had outwitted him.

The fury rose in Draco again with that thought. Catching sight of himself in the dusty, enormous mirror that hung in the ill-used corridor he gave a shudder. It was Harry staring back at him, and it made him feel so … contaminated. He stopped in front of the mirror, not one to shy away from discomfort, and contemplated his options for a second. He couldn’t go to the Slytherin dungeons looking like this. He could venture to Hogsmeade, although he would hardly be able to interrupt and risk his father finding out about this pollution. Plus, he didn’t have a wand with which to duel the Gryffindor, and even if he had he wouldn’t want to hurt his beautiful body! 

With a smirk, which looked so alien on Harry’s face that it shocked him a little, Draco made his decision. The Gryffindor tower. If Harry was off pretending to be him, why shouldn’t he do the same thing? He knew that most seventh-years were staying behind at Hogwarts today, frantically working on their NEWT studies, despite the delights that Hogsmeade offered, and he might be able to exact some sort of revenge by humiliating Potter in some way or being such a cruel bastard that no-one spoke to the worm for days!

These thoughts made Draco happy. He began to walk again, smirking, imagining the fun he could have in the next few hours. After all, Harry probably wouldn’t be back for at least two hours and there was plenty he could get up to before then.

***

Draco fell in behind a second-year Gryffindor, glad to have found someone with whom he could piggy-back into the tower. He kept a respectable distance, which aggravated him immensely as the small boy walked so slowly, but finally they arrived at their destination. 

As the portrait swung open Draco bounded up toward the second-year who blushed profusely and loitered in the corridor until Draco had swung through the doorway and up the staircase. It was the sort of treatment he would have expected from a young Slytherin toward himself and was intrigued, and slightly infuriated, to see Harry receive the same sort of respect.

He lingered in the common-room, nodding some greetings to Neville and some of the younger Gryffindors whose names he couldn’t even guess at. Slumping into an arm-chair by the fire he considered his options. He engaged himself in a brief and yet infinitely tiresome conversation with Neville and was just beginning to feel disappointed with his plan when Hermione appeared at the bottom of the staircase that led from the girl’s dormitories.

“So,” she began, sauntering towards him. “You came back, eh?” She settled on his lap and pressed her lips quickly against his. Draco internally raised an eyebrow and began to feel a little more pleased with himself. This could be an interesting opportunity.

She wittered on annoyingly for a few minutes and he made the appropriate noises, but then she poked him sharply in the ribs. “Are you listening to me?” she demanded with a cheerful glitter in her eyes. “Oh, sorry sweetie, I was thinking about something for a second. What did you say?” he asked, hoping that he sounded at least a little like Harry. “Do you want to come back upstairs?” she whispered in his ear. 

Draco could barely conceal a grin. 

“Sure thing,” he replied, smiling back at her and giving her an affection peck on the cheek in a manner that he thought was fairly Potter-like. He’d seen the dark-haired boy simpering over Hermione before and thought he did a fairly good job of the imitation. 

Hermione rose to her feet with a whisper of, “Follow me up,” and began to walk away from him toward the stairs that led to the boy’s dormitories. With a sudden pang of anxiety – he didn’t know which was Harry’s room – Draco sprang after her. She shot him a befuddled look and blushed as she looked around the common room to see who was watching them. “Oh, come on Hermione,” Draco said in what he hoped was a joking tone. “As if anyone’s paying attention to us! They’re all too busy fretting about their NEWTs.” 

Hermione giggled, but the blushing continued as they began their ascent. 

She led him up three or four flights of stairs before pushing open one of the heavy oak doors that appeared on every landing. As he was closing the door behind him Draco was calculating his next move, although he had known exactly what it would be from the moment she sat so teasingly on his lap. Draco grabbed Hermione’s shoulders and spun her around before kissing her deeply, locking her into his embrace. 

‘She’s not really my type,’ Draco thought to himself, ‘but I’ve done worse.’

“Mmm, Harry,” Hermione whispered hotly as she pushed herself away from him slightly. “Don’t think I’d forgiven you for just walking out on me like that half an hour ago. I’m still very angry, do you know that?” she questioned, but with a cheeky grin on her face that Draco found quite attractive. He’d always thought she’d be a bit of a cold fish but he was beginning to realise his mistake. “I know, but surely I can kiss it better?” he asked as he dived in for another kiss.

‘Oh my,’ Hermione thought to herself as she began to kiss him back. ‘I must have really gotten him interested with my suggestion earlier. He almost never kisses like this!’ 

Losing herself in the moment she was startled, but also secretly pleased, when she felt a hand creeping up beneath her blouse. “Mmm, Harry,” she moaned again. “Have you changed your mind about my proposal?” Draco pushed her away from him so that he could look her properly in the eyes and wondered if he’d jumped to the right conclusion about that statement.

‘My oh my, Potter actually getting some, eh?’ he chuckled to himself, even as he felt his body responding to the idea. 

He was a little bemused by how quickly he was being excited by this woman and marvelled again at the twists in his brain that allowed him to find such excitement in the idea of sleeping with someone else’s girl. There was no question in his mind that that was all that was really exciting him. 

‘Granger surely couldn’t produce such an effect!’ he scoffed to himself.

“Maybe,” he replied to her question teasingly, daring her to make the first move.

She did.


End file.
